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Book 4: Every Life is Beautiful

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Chapter Eight: A Brand Plucked From the Burning

 

Meta Knight took the news of Liloy’s appointment without a word. Cloudy’s siblings were speechless and solemn as they watched Meta Knight trudge out of the room and shut the door, Scazzarda looking after him. Springtime lowered her head, tears stinging her eyes. They had done all they could to make Liloy listen to reason, and nothing had worked. Now it was too late. The day after Cloudy’s birthday was the dire day no one in Spring Breeze was looking forward to.

Long after everyone had gone to bed, Cloudy stood watching the birds for a long time. Their shivering, limp bodies seemed to indicate something far more profound than illness or grief; it indicated death and finality. Her thoughts then drifted to Liloy. Where was she tonight? What was she doing? How did she feel? Every unanswered question felt like another burden added to her back, as if she didn’t have enough emotional baggage to carry already.

As she stood staring sadly at the birds, she heard a voice to her right:

“Faith is evidence we believe in what we don’t see.”

Cloudy jumped and looked in the direction of the voice. To her surprise, no one was there. A chill crept down her spine as she gazed carefully into the corners of the inky blackness, making certain someone wasn’t playing a trick on her. But no one was lurking. It was only Cloudy, the birds, and her troubled soul.

“Who’s there?” Cloudy spoke into the darkness. There was no audible reply, but voices from the past began crowding into her mind, causing her to think hard about her situation and her status as a warrior:

“Showerstorm! Do you see? Do you see? This is the one! The Star Warrior we’ve been waiting for!”
“Are you joking? That girl hates you! She wouldn’t listen to you for anything!”
“I believe He’s calling me to talk to her.”
“I don’t want to keep living in misery. I want happiness.”
“The only way to obtain true happiness is salvation through Christ.”

“There’s something special about this child. And I do not mean because she is the Prophesied One.”
“If you really want to know about my history, ask your daughter. She knows a lot from my past.”
“You have a Friend whom you can run to if ever you need Him. That’s a promise.”
“If we are children of the Lord, we can praise and rejoice even amidst the tragedies. But if we are not saved, we have no hope. We are bound by despair.”
“Why does this hurt so much?!”

“We’re gonna keep praying because there’s a thousand reason to believe He hears us and will answer! Am I right?!”
“If there is one I will never forgive, it is Nightmare himself. May he suffer all the tortures he put me through!”
“Just because he did who-knows-what to you as a child doesn’t mean you should wish the same things to happen to him!”
“It’s all right to be scared. What’s not all right is when you allow fear to govern your life.”
“Don’t be afraid. We’re still alive for a reason, and God willing, nothing will happen to us. We will all make it out alive.”
“I love her with all of my heart. And I love you too. So much. But I hate it when you feel as if you have to keep something from me because you’re afraid I’m going to get angry at you or react badly.”
“God has decided to end this chapter, but that doesn’t mean the book is concluded. In fact, your story’s just beginning!”

“I cannot keep pretending to believe Tilry will be all right. I know he will not, but still I continue to behave as if he will.”
“What are we going to do if he just—dies without ever waking up?”
“Take care. . .of our baby. Promise. . .you will.”
“Very few have such a passion to persevere and follow God even in their trials as Tilry did.”
“If you’re not willing to change your problems, Sir Meta Knight―then your problems will eventually begin to change you.”
“Tilry was the only reason I hung on for as long as I did, but since he died, my rope has been down to a thread.”
“It shouldn’t have happened, and yet. . .I knew it would.”
““You promised. . .You promised Tilry you would take care. . .of your baby. . .”

Cloudy slowly raised her head as visions, miracles, memories, and dreams came back to her, all swirling her mind in one endless spiral. A Bible verse came to her mind; it was 2 Corinthians 5:7: “For we live by faith, not by sight.” 

Cloudy’s breath caught in her throat as the truth struck her for the first time. “Faith!” she repeated out loud. “Faith is evidence we believe in what we don’t see! Of course!” So what if it appeared to everyone that evil was reigning in the world? God was working behind the scenes to create a world even bigger and better! And what if Nightmare was trying to control the universe and would do anything he could to get his hands on power? Cloudy had been appointed to fight him and defeat him for good, and she would, with God;s help! And so what if Liloy had said she would opt on a different path than the one her Father had commanded her to walk? God could rescue her from grief and the baby from death if He willed it! And all Cloudy had to do as believe it with all heart, knowing He could do anything!

My faith has slacked since Tilry’s death, Cloudy admitted to herself. She looked up to the ceiling, and a quiet voice spoke into her heart. She knew it was the nudging of the Holy Spirit, inviting her to come to Him. So she bowed her head and prayed, “Lord, help me never again to have a lack of faith. I know You can, if you will it, save Liloy and her child. Please help us. Help us all.” She added in a low whisper, “I know You can.”

And that night in the room, the atmosphere began to change, glowing with a soft light, and Cloudy found she no longer felt afraid or sad. A smile came over her face as peace filled her heart.

 

* * * * *

 

The day of Cloudy’s birthday finally arrived. In the early morning dawn, joggers trotted past the three-story house, gazing curiously at the garden hidden from view by tall rosebushes, but they could hear the strains of a cheerful song reverberating throughout the cool spring air:

“Happy Birthday to you!
Happy Birthday to you!
Happy Birthday, dear puppies, 
Happy Birthday to you!”

“Now it’s time to eat cake!” Showerstorm cheerfully announced, bringing out a chocolate/carrot cake with seven glittery candles positioned on the top. Cloudy snickered at her mother’s grimace. “Happy Birthday to you children!”

“Thanks, Daddy!” Pancake said happily, righting his blue party hat.

“Totally. This is great!” Star chimed.

Cloudy smiled cryptically, but didn’t speak. She merely started on her first piece of birthday cake while her parents looked on, smiling but seemingly puzzled at her sudden happiness. The other children chattered happily as they stuffed themselves with cake, Sniper being a little too gluttonous.

Then, without warning, Springtime lifted her head and a strange look came over her face. “Excuse me,” she said to her husband, hurrying away in the direction of the front of the house. Cloudy stopped eating, her eyes locked on her father, who looked confused as he stood, waiting, staring at the trellis.

Within a few minutes, Springtime was back, leading a worried-looking Meta Knight with her to the table where the children were seated. “Cloudburst,” she firmly addressed her youngest child.

Cloudy sat up straight, her stature proud. “Yes, Mommy?”

Springtime suddenly burst into giggles, startling the children. It had been a long time since they had heard her laugh! “Well, I’m going to say, it looks as though a brand has just been plucked from the burning, thank God!” she laughed.

Cloudy tilted her head. “Huh?”

Springtime wiped tears of laughter from her eyes, “Sorry, dear. I’m guess I’m just relieved.” She cleared her throat and attempted to sound dignified. “Liloy just went into labor and is at the hospital.”

Cloudy stood stock-still, gazing at her mother, waiting for the catch. “Did you hear me?” Springtime asked. “I said, Liloy just went into labor and is at the hospital!”

“So?” Cloudy thought she was beginning to understand, but wanted her mother to reveal the answer first.

“So she’s saved! Her baby is saved!” Springtime shouted.

Cloudy was stunned, but only for a brief moment. “Ya-hoooo!” she cried with delight, leaping onto the picnic bench and then off, landing squarely on all fours on the grass. “Hooray! The Lord be praised! Great are His works, and mighty indeed! He’s the Lord of all! Hooray! He’s saved us all! Heed the call! Whoopee!”

“Yes, indeed!” Springtime chuckled. “But the reason Meta Knight is here is because he wants you to go with him to the hospital. Would you like to?”

“Yes!” Cloudy replied without hesitation.

Springtime outfitted her in a pink scarf and sent her on her way. As Cloudy skipped happily ahead of him to the hospital, Meta Knight watched her, a mixture of fear and happiness in his eyes. He could tell she was excited, and he was too. But one question still raged in his mind: Would Liloy want to keep her baby?

 

* * * * *

 

“Here we are!” Cloudy sang in a cheerful voice. “Oromo Thuli Hospital! I can’t wait to see Liloy’s baby.”

“I cannot either,” Meta Knight confessed. He opened the sterile glass door. “Ladies first.”

“Veterans second,” Cloudy joked, grinning. Meta Knight shook his head, pretending to be annoyed, but he was smiling as he walked in behind her and shut the door. The nurse behind the check-in desk looked up and peered at them from behind her bifocals, smiling kindly. “Hello!” she greeted them. “Who are you here to visit?”

“Liloy Stellarum!” Cloudy piped up.

The nurse chuckled. “Oh!” She looked more closely at Meta Knight and then slowly nodded. “Of course you are! You are her father, aren’t you?” she inquired of the soldier.

“I am.”

The nurse pulled out some papers from underneath her desk and scanned them. “She’s in the delivery room right now. But I don’t know if the baby is born yet, so why don’t you wait here until the doctor calls you.”

Cloudy and Meta Knight decided to follow her advice and sat on two plastic chairs in the waiting room. Cloudy fussed with her bow and smoothed down her fur, a sign that she was nervous since she was never self-conscious. Meta Knight laughed at her fidgeting. “Be patient, Cloudy. The time will come soon enough.”

“I hope so,” Cloudy said, moving about restlessly and reluctantly sitting back down in her seat.

Minutes passed and Cloudy tried to be patient, but it wasn’t easy. At last, though, her efforts were rewarded. The doctor, Herb Serbue, a licensed physician, opened the waiting room door and called, “Meta Knight and Cloudy, you may come with me now. Liloy wants to see you.”

Cloudy felt a thrill of wonder as they followed Dr. Serbue to Floor 5. He led them to Room 509, checked his watch, rapped on the door a few times, and waited. And who should open the door but the same nurse who had paid for Tilry’s funeral arrangements! Cloudy gasped upon seeing her.

“Well, Sir Meta Knight and young Cloudy. Long time no see,” the nurse said, a soft smile growing on her visage. “I am pleased to see you again, and in such high spirits too! Come in.” She gestured for them to step inside, and they gladly accepted.

The first thing Cloudy heard as she stepped into the room were the ear-shattering screams of a newborn baby being attended to by two nurses. The second sound she heard was Liloy’s cry of joy as she spotted her father and his friend. Cloudy trotted over to the bed and placed her front paws on the mattress, her fluffy tail wagging at high speed. Meta Knight came up behind her and his hand descended gently upon the child’s head, softly caressing her fur. Cloudy looked up at him, eyes bright, and then back at Liloy.

“How do you feel?” were Meta Knight’s first words to his daughter.

Liloy blinked a few times, as if trying to gain her bearings. “Sort of weak,” she admitted. “I remember I was in a lot of pain, and then someone put a cloth over my face and I blacked out. . .must have been chloroform or some other type of drug so I wouldn’t feel any pain. Then I woke up and I heard. . .a baby crying. . .and the nurses told me it was my baby.”

“Yup,” Cloudy said nonchalantly. “He was a brand plucked from the burning.”

“What?” Liloy looked startled. “What does that mean?”

“It’s a phrase in the Bible. It just means your baby was saved from a terrible disaster,” Cloudy explained. At Liloy’s blank look, she frowned. “Don’t you remember? You planned to ‘opt on a different path,’ as you put in. In other words, end your pregnancy. You scheduled an appointment that was due for tomorrow.”

“I. . I did?” Liloy murmured. She thought a moment, then gasped softly, as if remembering. “What have I. . .Oh, no. Oh, what have I done?” She hid her face in her hands. “Why didn’t I listen. . .How stupid could I have been?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, Liloy,” Meta Knight gently comforted her, taking her hand. “It’s all in the past. Your baby is born; he is safe. That’s all that matters.”

“Actually, no, that’s not all that matters,” Cloudy objected. She lightly jumped up onto the bed, checking to make sure her feet weren’t dirty before she sat down on the sheets. “You had the baby, but now you have to make a choice.” She paused for effect, then went on in a slow monotone, “Will you keep the baby and raise him as a good, godly mother would do? Or are you going to give him up?”

Liloy fiddled with her fingers for a long time, looking down at the light-blue blankets. “Well,” she said at last, her voice strained, “I know that what I tried to do was wrong. . .and honestly, I don’t know why I even scheduled that stupid appointment. But I can’t follow through with it. I know I can’t. . .and I won’t.”

Cloudy smiled. “So does that mean you’re going to keep him?”

“Yes,” Liloy confirmed. “I will keep him.”

Just then, one of the nurses walked over to Liloy, carrying the precious bundle in her hands. “Here’s your baby!” she said. She laid the baby boy in his mother’s arms and stepped back, smiling a little at the beautiful scene.

Liloy shifted the child in her arms and drew in her breath at sight of his face. He had dark-blue skin like Meta Knight, but his facial features matched his once-living father’s. “Oh!” she gasped. “He. . .He looks like-like Tilry!”

“And a little like you too, Sir Meta Knight.” Cloudy smiled at the soldier.

Liloy gazed at the baby for a time, her eyes shining with wonder. Then she burst into tears. ‘Oh. how could I have even thought about opting on a different road with this child?” she cried. “I’ve always believed life was sacred! Truly, every life is beautiful! But for a time I lost my true outlook on life. I refused to open my ears to your advice and wisdom! but I promise that from this time forth and forevermore, never again will I ever attempt to do something that God says is wrong.” She wiped her eyes, trying to compose herself, then laughed a little. “I had no idea my child would be born a month earlier than expected.” She grinned at Cloudy. “A brand plucked from the burning.”

Cloudy bobbed her head, her bow jiggling slightly.

Liloy rocked her baby gently for a minute or two, humming under her breath. She seemed to be in deep thinking mode. After a moment, she stopped humming and looked up. “Guess what I’m going to name my baby?” she said.

“What?” Cloudy asked.

Liloy chuckled as she proudly looked down upon her sleeping son. “Comery. His name is Comery.”

“That’s a cute name,” Cloudy complimented the new mother.

“Thanks.” Liloy smiled up at Meta Knight and held out the baby to him. “Father, would you like to hold him?”

Cloudy restrained a giggle as Meta Knight’s eyes flashed orange. She wondered how he felt about holding a newborn baby for the first time. Then the moment of hesitation passed and the knight confidently but gently took the child in his arms, holding him gingerly, as if he were afraid he would drop him. The baby didn’t move, but he uttered a tiny laugh. Meta Knight held out his hand to the child, and the baby’s tiny hand curled round his finger. The knight’s eyes glowed blue, a sure sign he was happy. Cloudy grinned, her pearly fangs flashing in the overheard lights.

Meta Knight quickly handed back the baby to Liloy. “He’s very beautiful,” he said softly. “Your perfect gift.”

“You mean Tilry’s and my perfect gift,” Liloy corrected. “We made this child.” She smiled and kissed Comery, who was sleeping peacefully. Meta Knight clasped his daughter’s hand in his, and she smiled at him, holding her baby closer.

Cloudy looked out the window and saw something amazing that caused her to gasp. Liloy stared at her in surprise. “What is it, my dear?” she asked.

“A rainbow!” cried Cloudy, gesturing to the shimmering loop hidden halfway behind the trees lining the edges of the hospital. “And it’s not even raining!”

“A sign from God!” Liloy said, reverence clear in her voice. “He has rescued me and Comery, and this is His sign that He always works things out for good. . .He always keeps his promises.”

“Yes, He does!” Cloudy agreed wholeheartedly. She stared with awe and wonder at the rainbow, and a faith-filled peace sneaked into her heart and enveloped every fiber of her being. The rainbow seemed to smile upon them, each individual color’s haziness blending into the next.

Books

Book 4: Every Life is Beautiful

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Chapter Seven: Final Chance

 

Cloudy slowly rose from the hard, cold linoleum floor, her head throbbing from the blow of Liloy’s fist. Meta Knight, rooted to the spot, stood staring dumbfoundedly at the front door, his eyes glowing a fiery orange. Cloudy struggled to her feet, wobbling a little, and only then did the soldier seem to shake himself free from his trance. “Cloudburst! Are you all right?” he inquired.

“I’m fine, but Liloy. . .” The child stared up at him with wide, frightened eyes. “Is she really going to follow through with what she said?”

Meta Knight couldn’t answer her; he didn’t know himself. “She always told me,” he said, “that she believed every life was sacred and beautiful beyond what words can describe. So I don’t understand her reasoning. . . .” He sighed and placed a hand to his head. “Why would she listen to her friend’s evil words? Why?

Cloudy spoke in a slow monotone. “Sometimes grief and unresolved trauma can drown out good advice and morals, Meta Knight. Perhaps that’s Liloy’s issue.”

Meta Knight sighed. “I do not know how to get her to listen to reason,” he admitted.

Cloudy’s eyes sparkled with a strange glint. Meta Knight recognized that look. “I believe God will rescue her just in time,” she declared.

His eyes grew wide as he searched her determined face, but he did not speak.

 

* * * * *

 

That evening, Cloudy picked at her food and vaguely listened in a fog of distraction to the conversation her parents were having about what to do for their children’s upcoming birthday. Cloudy wasn’t at the dinner table; she was miles away at a cabin in Whispy Woods, her brain fixated on Liloy and her problems. She tried desperately to think of ideas of what to do for Liloy and how to get her to snap out of her depressing thoughts, out of the ominous darkness that threatened to swallow her whole.

“Cloudy, what do you think?” Springtime asked.

Cloudy snapped out of her reverie and stared at her mother. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you. What did you say?”

“I asked, what do you think would be better for the party? To have a chocolate cake or a strawberry one?”

“Even a carrot cake would work,” Showerstorm added.

Springtime puckered her lips and made a face. “Eew, I hate carrot cake. That’s for the rabbits!”

“What do you mean?” Showerstorm playfully demanded. “Carrot cake is the best kind of cake there is!”

“According to your standards,” Springtime joked.

Cloudy wasn’t in the mood for kidding around. “I don’t know. Anything will work; I don’t care what kind you make. I’m not picky,” she responded, her patience with her parents thinning rapidly.

Springtime and Showerstorm traded glances. “Honey, is something aggravating you?” she inquired. “You’re sort of snappy tonight.”

Cloudy knew talking about Liloy’s daunting plan wouldn’t collaborate well with the merry mood at the dinner table. “I’ll tell you about it after supper,” she whispered quietly in their general direction.

Springtime nodded in understanding.

 

* * * * *

 

“Liloy’s going to do what?” Springtime cried.

Cloudy and her parents were sitting on the sofa after supper, discussing what Cloudy had been so distracted by. Cloudy had tried to explain Liloy’s plan in the most discreet way possible, but judging from her mother’s horrified look and her father’s stern one, she began to wonder if her explanation had been as discreet as she had tried to make it.

“Liloy’s going to try to end her pregnancy,” Cloudy repeated.

“Why on earth?” Springtime gasped.

“I don’t know,” Cloudy said, her head sinking. “Maybe she’s too deep in her emotional stress and overwhelmed by her trauma to care much about anyone else’s opinions. Heck, she won’t even listen to her own father’s advice.”

“That’s not good,” Showerstorm said grimly. “Have you tried talking to her?”

“Yes, I did, and her response was to knock me over the head!” Cloudy gingerly reached her paw up and touched the bump on her head, wincing a little as she did so.

“Oh, dear. I’m afraid she’s too beyond hope,” Springtime said regretfully.

Cloudy was shocked. How could her mother talk that way! Didn’t she know no one was too far out of reach for God to save? “No, she isn’t!” she angrily objected. “I believe God will save her and her baby just in time! I believe that!”

Springtime took a deep breath and slowly released the air in her lungs.. “I know, dear. And. . .I’m sorry. I guess. . .I wasn’t thinking clearly. You’re right. No one is too far gone for God to reach out His hand to.”

“But what can we do to change her mind?” Showerstorm puzzled. “I mean, I suppose we could talk to her, but what difference would that make? If she won’t listen to Meta Knight, or even to our daughter, then why would she listen to us?”

“We are older than she is and have more life experience,” Springtime reminded her husband. “Perhaps she’d take our wisdom and apply it to her situation.”

“It’s worth a shot,” Showerstorm agreed, silently praising his wife for her integrity. “We’ll talk to her later tonight and let you know what she says, Cloudy.”

Cloudy nodded wordlessly, but deep down, she wondered if her parent’s effort would make any difference. Then her mind went to the baby birds―still so small and weak. They were barely growing or breathing, and even their food dish was full half the time. Cloudy darkly thought, Maybe this is a forewarning―Liloy’s baby will die, and the birds will perish. Not one of them will live to even see the sun.

 

* * * * *

 

Later that evening, Springtime and Showerstorm were tromping through Whispy Woods, searching for Liloy’s cabin. Eventually, they found it and plodded up the walkway. Then they climbed the steps of Liloy’s now-sold home and Springtime knocked on the door. There was no answer for a long time. The two spouses waited reluctantly on the doorstep, wondering if Liloy was even home or if she had gone away.

After a time, the door opened, and there stood Liloy. Her eyes were red and her face was drawn, but she worked up a tentative smile and said cheerfully, “Well, if it isn’t Springtime and Showerstorm! Won’t you come inside?”

Husband and wife took advantage of the invitation and waltzed inside. Springtime stared round at the bare bedrooms and desolate kitchen, wondering where Liloy slept at night and what she ate. Showerstorm, not wishing to be rude, seated himself on the wooden floorboards of the dining room and said in a mature tone, “Liloy, we have come to discuss something with you―something I know needs to be addressed.”

Liloy held up her hand. “If this is about me and my baby, forget it,” she said abruptly. Springtime was astounded that Liloy would be so rude! “I’ve already decided on my course of action, and nothing you two or anyone else says will change my mind. End of story.” She gestured toward the front door. “Now if that is all, I must ask you to leave. I have to finish packing so I can get to my new home tomorrow.”

Showerstorm was so startled by Liloy’s brusque declaration that he sat frozen to the spot. But then suddenly, he could move again. “Liloy, I’m not going to let you do such a terrible thing to your child!” he said roughly. “God tells us that murder is wrong! Don’t you know that? Or do you just not care?”

“I have already discussed this with Father,” Liloy said coldly. “I do not want to hear anything you have to say. I will do only what is best for my child.”

“But. . .But. . .” Springtime sputtered, seeing red, “you’re not doing what’s best for your child!”

“I said I do not want to hear this!” Liloy shouted, her face twisting with furious rage. Her eyes were flaming, her fists seemed ready to fly. Showerstorm and Springtime, their hearts pounding, edged toward the door, Liloy flailing them with her tongue. “Get out now! Get out of my house and do not ever come back!” As soon as they were on the doorstep, she slammed the door shut with a deafening bang. Springtime heard the lock click as the bolt slid into place.

Husband and wife remained on the porch for the longest time, staring at the door, wondering what in the world had gone wrong.

 

* * * * *

 

“So how did it go?” Cloudy asked as soon as her parents stepped into the house.

“It hardly went at all,” Springtime said miserably. “Liloy became furious when we tried to talk to her about her baby, and she yelled at us, ordering us out of the house. Then she slammed the door on us.” She shook her head bewilderingly. “I don’t understand. She’s never acted so rash and angry before—Lilith must have really influenced her!”

“Ohh, is there nothing we can do?” Cloudy exclaimed, stamping her foot. Springtime thought those words sounded a little familiar. “We can’t just stand around here and do nothing! A life is on the line!”

“Cloudy, I tried and tried to tell her, but she wouldn’t listen!” Showerstorm finally burst out. “There’s nothing we can do! It’s all up to the Lord now! You must understand that!”

Cloudy shrank back, the room going completely silent at her father’s frustrated outburst. The frogs croaked outside, a peaceful contrast to the tension inside the home. Cloudy stared at each of her parents in turn, thinking, Is there no way out of this horrible nightmare?

 

* * * * *

 

Scazzarda frowned at the text Springtime had sent her during the night. It said plainly, “Liloy’s about to follow through with a disastrous decision involving her baby and she needs to be stopped. She wouldn’t listen to her father, Cloudy, or us, so you’re our only option now, Scazzarda. We need your help.”

Of course I’ll help, Scazzarda thought, a rush of energy flowing through her as she jumped out of bed and began to get dressed. I’ll do whatever it takes to save my precious great-grandchild.

 

* * * * *

 

Scazzarda knocked on Liloy’s door and stepped back, expecting the door to open just as it would have on any other normal day. But it never did. And that was when Scazzarda noticed the boxes that had been gathered on the porch a couple of days ago had vanished. The truth hit her—Liloy must have already left for Mount Moonstem. It was too far away for walking; she’d have to get there by car.

Scazzarda’s face was decidedly steely as she marched through the woods, back to her house, to get her car.

 

* * * * *

 

“Cabin 204,” Scazzarda muttered to herself as she climbed out of her car and walked up the steep incline. “That’s her new address, Magnus said.” She paraded between rows and rows of cabins, mouthing their numbers, “Cabin 201, 202, 203. . .” And out loud: “Ah! Here we are! Cabin 204!” She knocked on the door and waited.

A few seconds later, Liloy was fondly, calmly greeting her grandmother, a stark contrast to the shrieking, furious girl from the night before. Scazzarda couldn’t understand her granddaughter’s shifting attitude as the young woman invited her into the cabin and bade her please be seated on a small velvet sofa, which had belonged to Tilry’s father.

“So what are you here for, Grandmother?” Liloy politely asked. “What’s going on back home?”

Scazzarda knew she had to speak out. Now was the time. “Everyone is just fine, dear, but they’re worried about you,” she calmly said. “See, Springtime alerted me last night about what happened between you and she and her husband, and well, I just came out here to. . .” She broke off as she noticed Liloy staring at the wall, a faraway expression in her sad eyes.

“So they sent you to try to talk me into changing my mind, huh?” Liloy said.

Scazzarda sighed, knowing she couldn’t hide the truth. “Yes,” she confessed.

“I see,” Liloy calmly responded.

Scazzarda rushed to her next words. “Listen, Liloy. I know you’re going through a lot, but you cannot just give up on yourself and your baby. Life is a very precious gift, Liloy, and we only have it a short time. We should live it to honor God and show His glory to all. To murder someone is to mount an attack on the One Who created and breathed life into that special person.
“There are lots of Bible verses that tell us murder is wrong. Psalm 139:13 tells us, “For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.”  That tells us that every life is created for a purpose. Everyone has intrinsic value and dignity that God created them with. Another verse is Jeremiah 1:5, which says, “Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you, before you were born, I set you apart.” This verse underscores the true fact that God has valued life from its very inception, and He has affirmed its sanctity.”

Liloy didn’t answer. Her eyes were now riveted on the floor.

“What I am saying is that you cannot do this to your child,” Scazzarda spoke gently, placing her firm hand over Liloy’s gentle one. “God gave you this baby for a reason, Liloy. He chose you to be the mother of this special life.”

Liloy stood up, drawing her hand away from Scazzarda’s. “Grandmother. . .I have to tell you about something I did,” she said quietly. “Last night, after Springtime and Showerstrom had left. . .I scheduled an appointment.” She didn’t need to say anything else; the horrified look coming into Scazzarda’s eyes told her that Scazzarda knew what she was talking about.

“Why, Liloy?” Scazzarda simply asked. She didn’t yell or get mad, but simply spoke in a soft tone. “Why?”

“I lost myself last night,” Liloy admitted. She covered her eyes with one hand. “Grandmother, I know you and many others are trying to help, but I have to do what’s best for my child. I have to do this.” She hesitated, then went on, “I know God’s laws are moral and upright, but I have to make an exception. I truly believe I have to go against my beliefs this time.”

Liloy, you don’t know what you’re saying. “When do you go?” Scazzarda braced herself for the answer.

The reply was horrific. “March 22.”

Liloy sank onto the couch and began to cry silently as Scazzarda stood up and left the cabin, tears streaming down her face as she glanced back at the snow-draped mountains. Then she got into her car, started the ignition, and drove away, never once looking back.

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In Jesus’ Name

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One of the first songs I heard from famous Christian song artist Katy Nichole is “In Jesus’ Name (God of Possible.)” When I was younger, I assumed it was referring to physical healing, and it does in a sense. But as I got older, I learned it referred to so much more. . .

The song is a prayer for all who are struggling, whether it be physical, mental, or emotional struggles. it reminds us that God is still working and will heal if it be His will; we just have to trust in Him and let Him carry all our burdens instead of trying to lug them around ourselves.

I pray for all who are going through hard times. . . .May the Lord change your situation if He wills it. . .

Books

Book 3: With You Always

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Chapter Nine: A Serious Conversation

 

Cloudy sat in the waiting room of Oromo Thuli Hospital with Liloy, waiting for news of Meta Knight, Derek, and Miriam. Her mind flipped back through the pages of the events that had taken place over the last few days. First the moving announcement from Miriam; then Joseph driving through Spring Breeze and abducting Liloy and Miriam; then the search-and-rescue mission; Joe and Sam’s arrest and Derek’s joining forces with Meta Knight and Cloudy; Derek’s running off and the bomb explosion; Joseph cornering them and Derek’s injury; and their miraculous escape. Cloudy knew she would never want to experience anything that frightening ever again. Unfortunately, this wouldn’t be the last time she would go through something truly terrifying. As she later came to realize, her entire life practically revolved around danger.

Just then, the nurse opened the waiting room door and smiled kindly at the two girls. Cloudy rose to her feet. “How are they?” she inquired.

“They’re just fine,” the nurse said. Cloudy and Liloy heaved collective sighs of relief. “Miriam and the knight can go home tomorrow, but they’ll have to take it easy the first few days.”

“And Derek?” Liloy asked.

The nurse’s smile slipped a notch. “Well, he was injured a lot worse than supposed. He may be here a few days, possibly a week. The knife split his forehead nearly to the brain. It’s a pretty bad wound. Had the blade actually hit his brain, the wound would have been fatal.”

Cloudy bit her lip and swiveled her head around to glance up at Liloy. The older woman glanced down at Cloudy with a mixture of sorrow and indecision in her eyes. Then Cloudy turned back to the nurse. “May we see our friends?”

“Certainly,” the nurse agreed, holding open the door for them. “The knight and Miriam are hanging out in Tilry’s room—Room 416. Derek’s two rooms down from them.”

“Thanks,” answered Cloudy, her tone sincere. She rushed past the nurse and trotted to the elevator. As soon as she and Liloy were inside, Liloy pressed the button for the fourth floor. Cloudy stayed perfectly still as the elevator began to rise, enjoying the funny feeling of the ascent. When the doors slid open, they stepped out and began strolling leisurely down the hallway. Cloudy studied each room number as they passed by, looking for the correct one. “Here we are,” she said finally, halting in front of a varnished door. “Room 416.”

Liloy took a deep breath and softly rapped on the door. From within answered a weak voice, “Come in!”

Liloy turned the brass knob, pushed open the wooden door, and marched inside, Cloudy following suit. Tilry was sitting up in bed, Meta Knight seated in a chair beside him. Tilry’s dull eyes brightened with joy when he saw his wife. “Liloy!” he whispered, his voice trembling.

Liloy merely grinned, her face glowing radiant with happiness and overwhelming joy. She felt like crying but knew that would in no way suit this wonderful occasion of being reunited with her loved ones. “Hello, Tilry.” She walked over to him and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Cloudy!” cheered Miriam. She jumped up from the corner where she had been sitting and hugged her best friend. Cloudy noticed Miriam’s arm was swaddled in a clean white bandage that started at the wrist, extended past the elbow, and ended just a few inches below the shoulder.

“How are you feeling?” asked Cloudy.

Miriam smiled grimly. “Okay, I guess—except I’m a little sore from my gunshot wound.” She gave a low, hollow laugh. Then her grimness was replaced by a sincere smile of joy. “Actually, I’m especially feeling wonderful now that I’m back among those whom I know I can actually trust.” She cast a knowing look over her shoulder at Meta Knight, who imperceptibly nodded at her to show he understood.

“Oh, I’m so glad you and Sir Meta Knight showed up and saved us!” Miriam exclaimed, heaving a long sigh of deep, intimate relief. “I don’t think I could have spent another minute in that cold, stuffy prison. If I had, I would have screamed my head off.”

Cloudy had to giggle at the thought. Instantly she became sober. “In all seriousness, I’m glad we rescued you when we did,” she spoke. “Otherwise, you probably would have died.”

“Yeah,” nodded Miriam, her face becoming grave.

There resounded another knock on the door and Miriam went to answer it. A few seconds later, Cloudy heard her shriek with excitement and in rushed Nika and Eloise, their arms around Miriam. All three were hopping up and down and chattering endlessly and squealing with intense delight. Eloise spotted Cloudy and ran over to her, wrapping her arms around the puppy’s neck and hugging her. Cloudy’s oxygen supply was nearly cut off, but she managed to smile and greet her friend, “Hi, Eloise!”

And at that moment, who should enter but Zach! Arrow was beside him. “Hello, everyone!” Arrow joyfully called. When his eyes landed on Cloudy, a broad grin spread across his face and he leaped over to her in three bounds and, oblivious to the others watching, embraced her with all of his strength.

“Don’t forget me!” Lily cried, leaping into the room and landing squarely on all fours, her tail wagging at top speed.

“Lily!” Cloudy exclaimed.

“Cloudy!” responded Lily.

Then in walked Leo, Meredith, and Scazzarda! They stopped short in the doorway and stared incredulously at the vast array of children jumping and swinging around and chatting all at once, laughing and squealing alternately. Liloy caught her grandmother’s eye and made a gesture of joy with her fingers, the faintest smile on her lips.

Scazzarda chuckled. “I take it they’re all glad to be back together?”

“Right,” Liloy replied.

“Okay, kids, settle down!” Meredith called out gently. The children cut their merrymaking and gazed at her with wide solemn eyes filled with respect. Meredith gently shut the door and sat down daintily in an upholstered chair, motioning for them to sit or stand quietly. When everyone was settled, she said, “Now Cloudy, why don’t you tell us about your—uh —adventure with Joseph?”

When Meredith made that request, it was as if the sun hid behind the clouds. Cloudy’s excited, enthusiastic expression she had been wearing with her friends gave way to a tight, angry look. She made a face of disgust and loathing. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she answered in a half-despondent, half-angry tone, her emerald eyes flashing. “I hated every minute of it—the fear and horror we endured, the bomb explosion, and Joseph’s threats! The worst part was when we were nearly killed! It’s a good thing the police showed up at the right time; otherwise, we would be mutilated and bleeding on the cabin floor right about now! We barely escaped with our lives!” She stamped her foot on the floor, her voice rising unexpectedly in shrill rage. “Why must I keep retelling my terrors and bringing up bad memories that I’d much rather forget?!”

Eloise gasped and recoiled, shocked that Cloudy would speak to an adult in such a way. But Meredith seemed to understand Cloudy’s frustration and misery with bringing up touchy subjects. “I see, dear,” she murmured. “Well, if you don’t wish to tell us, you may not, And if you want to keep it to yourself, do so, by all means.”

Cloudy nodded, still looking angry. She lay down on the linoleum tiles, her chin resting on her front paws.

Meanwhile, Tilry hadn’t said a word in all this time. He just watched in silence while Cloudy gave her heated tirade, his expression neutral. But when Cloudy was silent and the entire room was quiet, he sighed and turned his head to look up into his wife’s face. “Liloy, why didn’t you call and tell me you had been kidnapped?” he demanded in an anxious voice, taking her hand.

“I asked Father not to speak of the matter to you,” Liloy explained, “because I didn’t want you to worry.”

“‘Didn’t want me to worry?'” he repeated. His hand clenched tightly around Liloy’s. “I was freaking out over your disappearance! I didn’t know what had happened until Eloise got word from the authorities that you were with Joseph! I had to hear about your abduction from her!”

Cloudy was astounded and completely dumbfounded by that announcement. She turned to Eloise, who looked very embarrassed. She dropped her eyes to the floor when she noticed Cloudy staring at her. “You told Tilry Liloy was kidnapped by a serial killer?!” she exclaimed. “In his critical condition?!! Eloise, why would you do such a thing!”

Eloise didn’t meet Cloudy’s eyes when she spoke. “He was terribly worried about her almost to death, Cloudy,” she slowly answered. “I—I just figured maybe. . .if he knew where she was, he wouldn’t worry so much.”

“Yeah?! And how you think he felt after you told him his spouse was with a murderer who was recently jailed for maiming and killing several innocent people who never did him a lick of harm?!” yelled Cloudy. “I wouldn’t imagine he brought out the noisemakers and party hats! And as for him being worried almost to death, maybe it would have been better never to tell him at all! The way I see it, it would have been better for him to die not knowing of Liloy’s horrible predicament than to nearly kill himself with extreme anguish over her kidnapping by the inappropriate serial killer, Joseph Unswall!” The minute the rude, horrid words left her mouth, she was ashamed of herself.

Meredith let out a loud gasp of horror and placed her hand over her mouth. Leo stared at Cloudy in disbelief. Meta Knight lowered his head as if in shame. And Liloy just looked plain upset. Cloudy focused on the several pairs of eyes staring at her. She hadn’t meant to say something so brusque or even to indirectly imply that Tilry should have died.

Tilry blinked at Cloudy a few times, undecided as to whether he should scold her or keep quiet. Finally, he decided to refrain from rebuking her. Instead he turned to Meta Knight. “Father, you explain this,” he ordered in a stern voice. “Why did you not tell me where Liloy was when you already knew?”

Meta Knight sighed deeply. “Tilry, she asked me not to. And I did not want. . .to worry you.” His voice faltered as he went on, ” I just. . .did not want you. . .to worry. . .was all.”

Tilry’s face showed agony. “Father, you know how much I love Liloy. I love her with all of my heart. And I love you too. So much. But I hate it when you feel as if you have to keep something from me because you’re afraid I’m going to get angry at you or react badly.”

Cloudy raised her head and stared at Tilry. What did he mean by that?

Meta Knight shook his head. “Tilry, I. . .” He alternately clenched and unclenched the folds of his cape. Cloudy could feel the tension rising, and she was frightened by that for reasons she could not explain. “Tilry, I can’t. . .You know I. . .”

“Father!” Tilry’s voice was nearly at the breaking point. “Speak the complete truth about why you did not let me know Liloy was kidnapped! I know it wasn’t just because you didn’t want to worry me. There’s more to it that you’re not telling me.” He reached over and took his father-in-law’s hand. “Father, I beg you. . .please tell me the complete truth.”

Meta Knight glanced down at their joined hands and closed his eyes. Somehow Tilry’s raw vulnerability and honesty gave him the strength to tell the truth. “In truth, Tilry, I—I didn’t tell you because—I can’t stand to look at you. I didn’t want to face you with the truth because I can’t even look at you in your deteriorating state of health.” Overcome with emotion, he couldn’t go on.

The breath Cloudy had been holding in her lungs slowly hissed out. Her ears drooped. She felt sad for Meta Knight. How hard it must have been for him to admit such a thing, she thought, admiration in her eyes. But how terribly sad at the same time. Looking round at her friends, she could tell they felt the same way she did.

Tilry gazed at Meta Knight for the longest time, the love in his eyes salient. Tears filled his eyes and one dropped down on his cheek. A sob emanated from his throat, his body trembling uncontrollably. He raised his hand to hide the tears streaming down his face, but Cloudy saw them. She gasped soundly.

“Tilry,” Liloy pleaded with her husband, tears in her own eyes, “listen to me, babe. Father loves you very much, but this has been extremely hard on him. He would never abandon you, but there are times he needs to step back and think over hard situations.”

Tilry didn’t reply. He sat hunched, one hand covering his eyes, weeping. Scazzarda put an arm around Meredith, who was crying. Leo didn’t cry, but he was obviously touched by the scene. Miriam and the other children did not cry, but stared wide-eyed at the adults, their faces showing slight bewilderment. Meta Knight didn’t know what to say. He felt terrible.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” Meta Knight whispered, “but you asked me for the truth, my son.” Tears sprang to his eyes. “I didn’t mean. . .”

“Father,” Tilry interrupted, getting control of his emotions and wiping his eyes. “You did not hurt me. I understand the truth is blunt sometimes, but I am not angry with you. I promise.” He let out his breath. “I just felt very overwhelmed by all of this—my hospitalization, Liloy’s abduction—and I broke.” His hands began to shake. “I didn’t mean to cause you so much grief. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“No!” Meta Knight objected. “No, Tilry. I love you, and I always will. You’re not causing me grief. I’m pained to see you in this condition, but you are not in any way causing trouble for me, so do not think you are.” He smiled sadly, though Tilry could not see it. “You’re very valuable to me, and I would not want to lose you for the world. No matter what happens in your life, you’ll always be precious to me.”

Tilry grasped both of Meta Knight’s hands in his, fighting back tears. Then the two embraced as everyone watched. Eloise lifted her hands and began to clap, and one by one, the others joined in the clapping. Soon the whole room echoed with applause.

Meta Knight and Tilry disentangled themselves from their embrace and smiled at their joyous, acclimating friends. Scazzarda meandered up to Tilry and fondled him. Then she did the same to her son. He returned the tender affection, his eyes gleaming light blue. The others began to participate in the hugging. Laughter, bear hugs, and tears shared a part of the sweet, emotional scene young Cloudy was witnessing.

But as Cloudy observed her jubilant friends winging round and round the room, sheer elation written on their faces; and when she saw Meta Knight and Tilry, their hands clasped, the smallest smile sprang to her lips. Yes, Tilry, you are indeed precious to Meta Knight. You’re precious to all of us. I love you more than you’ll ever know.

Tilry laughed and brushed his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry about all of this, children,” he apologized. “I don’t think you can really comprehend this at your age. You probably think this is odd.”

“No, sir,” answered Eloise in a no-nonsense intonation, firmly but respectfully. “We may be pretty young, but we’re not ignorant. We understand your situation completely.”

“That’s right,” Nika chimed. “Kids are a lot smarter and fathom way more than their executives think.”

Tilry had to smile at that statement. It was true, he knew. His father had once told him the very same thing. “You’re right.” He sighed and leaned back against the pillows, suddenly seeming very drained. Eloise felt sorry for him. He had been through so much in so short a time.

Meredith too noticed Tilry’s exhaustion. “Come, children,” she said in a low voice. “Let’s leave Tilry to his rest.” She opened the door and moved outside, Scazzarda and Leo behind her.

The other kids languidly trooped out of the room, Cloudy halting only once to look back at speak to Tilry. “See you later, Tilry,” she murmured. “I’ll be praying for you—and for your life.”

Tilry smiled tiredly at her. “Bless you, child,” he told her.

Cloudy smiled too, a feeling of warmth and ecstasy moving through her. As she passed out of the room and smoothly shut the door, she prayed in her heart, “Thank You, Jesus, for keeping me, Miriam, Liloy, Derek, and Meta Knight safe while in Joseph’s habitation. And thank You for helping us escape with our lives. I love You forever, Jesus. Amen.” Then she trotted down the hallway, turned the corner, and was gone.

Kirby of the Stars Stories

Praise the Lord!

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(Set after the “Fright to the Finish” movie from Kirby! Right Back at Ya.)

 

It was a warm summer night in Cappy Town. Fireflies flitted about, the stars twinkled and winked at the townsfolk, and bullfrogs croaked loudly and splashed in the river. Tiffany Ebrum and her parents stood on the bridge outside of Cappy Town, watching the stars and commenting on how gorgeous the night sky was.

“A lovely night, my dear,” Sir Ebrum told his wife.

“Yes. I’ve never witnessed a more beautiful summer,” Lady Like replied.

Tiff did not reply. She merely gazed in silence at the water.

 

*   *   *   *

 

“Tonight, we stood on the bridge and watched the stars. They seemed to be smiling down on us. Often, I imagine the stars as angels, gazing down at us and guarding us, keeping us safe from all harm. Everywhere I go, I feel watched. . .but in a comforting way.”

Tiff closed her journal and snapped the lock shut. Placing the brightly colored book on her nightstand and setting the pen on top, she jumped off her bed and walked onto the balcony. There were the stars. . .watching over her just as she had written.

Tiff stood there a moment longer, thinking back over the events of the last few weeks. Recently, her town had been attacked by Destroya ships and had been wrecked to a pile of rubble. She and a few others volunteered to fight Nightmare in the Halberd, Meta Knight’s battleship. Unfortunately, the crew members had been trapped inside the fortress and were forced to abandon the Halberd. Tiff had been kidnapped by Dedede and Escargoon and then ended up in the hands of Nightmare. Luckily, young Kirby came to the rescue and defeated Nightmare with the Star Rod, the only thing the demon was susceptible to.

But now everything was back to normal. . .or was it?

Tiff knew everything ought to be back to normal, but deep down she knew it wasn’t. Something was off. Something was unbalanced. Something was not as it was supposed to be.

Dedede was acting strange, almost sick.

Escargoon was being sly and secretive.

Meta Knight was quieter than normal and never seemed to talk much anymore.

What was going on?

 

*   *   *   *

 

In the middle of the night, Tiff was awakened by a terrible scream. She sat bolt upright in bed, her eyes wide. The sound of running footsteps resounded out in the hallway, and she jumped out of bed and threw the door open. Several of the castle’s residents, including her parents, were hurrying past her room.

“Mom! Dad!” Tiff hollered, darting after them. “What’s going on? Who screamed?”

Lady Like skidded to a stop and stared at her daughter. “It sounded like the king, my dear. But we are not certain. We must check on him! Something could have happened!”

“Yeah, maybe he tripped over the toothpaste tube,” joked Tuff.

But Tiff didn’t laugh. She was beginning to feel fearful. She doubted Dedede would have screamed that loudly from so small an accident. . .What if something terrible had occurred?! Stepping up her pace a notch, she ran ahead of her parents and flung open the king’s bedroom door.

He was not there!

“Oh!” Tiff cried out. “He’s gone!”

Lady Like and Sir Ebrum reached her side and gasped upon seeing the room empty. “B-But I heard him!” Lady exclaimed in disbelief. “I know he was in here. . .” Her voice trailed off when she noticed the balcony doors open. “Why are his doors open?”

Tiff began to get a bad feeling—a really bad feeling—as she walked into the room. She stepped onto the balcony and looked around, but there was nothing unusual. Then she looked over the edge of the railing. . .and spotted Dedede lying on the ground below, unconscious.

Tiff screamed at the top of her lungs, terrified at such a dreadful sight. She felt herself collapsing from shock. She felt someone’s hand grab her arm as she went down, and that was the last thing she remembered.

 

*   *   *   *

 

When Tiff awoke, she was lying across the foot of Dedede’s bed. She shook her head and sat up, staring at Dedede sleeping peacefully. She could clearly see how swollen his head look and how bruised his hands were. She shivered. Though she had never been very sympathetic toward the king, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

There was a tap on the door.

“Come in,” Tiff called softly so as not to disturb the king.

In entered little Ivene, Starmonia’s sister. Meta Knight and Starmonia were with him.

“Hi, guys,” Ivene whispered.

“Hello, Ivene.” Tiff sat up a little straighter. “What are you all doing?”

“We came to check on the king,” Meta Knight said shortly, as if it were completely obvious. Tiff frowned at his tone. Ivene’s brown eyes narrowed.

Just then, Dedede stirred and opened his eyes. He stared blankly at each of them. “Why are you all in my bedroom?”

Tiff sat down beside him. “We heard you scream last night,” she told him. “And then I found you on the ground. Did you fall off the balcony or did someone push you?” But how can anyone push him, she reasoned, if no one was there?

“Um, I don’t remember,” Dedede mumbled, reaching up to touch his head.

“Do you recall anything from last night?” Starmonia questioned.

Dedede frowned, trying to think. “I know I went to bed and then got up because I heard something on my balcony, but that’s it. I don’t recall anything else.”

Tiff dropped her eyes to the bedcovers, feeling very sorry for her king. As she raised her eyes to his face, she again caught side of his head. She shuddered. It looked awful. “Doesn’t your head hurt?” she inquired. “It’s swollen.”

Dedede shrugged. “I’m used to it,” he said. “After all, that’s not the first time something like this has happened to me.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Tiff in a very quiet tone.

Dedede suddenly seemed very uncomfortable. “I’m not certain you want to know.”

“Tell me anyway,” Tiff replied.

Dedede sighed. “Okay.” He looked up to the ceiling, as if trying to gain his memory. “I was born in this very castle nearly thirty years ago. My parents and my older brother and I were a very happy family for nearly twelve years. . .until my dad began to drink heavily.”

Tiff’s eyes widened.

“From that moment on, we were afraid of him. He was loud and brusque and rough with us. He even threatened to burn my mom in her room when she was asleep. He almost followed through with that plan, but one of the servants stopped him. He was tried a few days later and was executed.”

Tiff placed a comforting hand on Dedede’s.

“My mom was heartbroken over my father’s death. She died one night while in bed. No one knows how she died—whether she poisoned herself or died of a broken heart—but she did die. My brother and I were cared for by the servants.”

“So where does your head injury come in?” Tiff gently asked.

Dedede didn’t look at her when he spoke. “It was a summer evening. My father, as was his usual habit, drank heavily. He came after me when I was up in the turret and accused me of being thoughtless and disobedient to his rules. I didn’t have any idea what he was talking about. I tried to get away from him, but he grabbed me and pushed me out the window of the turret. I hit the water, striking my head on a large rock. . .and then all went black.”

Tiff put her hand over her mouth. “Oh, how awful,” she whispered. “What happened?”

“I woke up. . .” The words came out in a choked whisper. “. . .but I couldn’t see anything.”

“Why not?” Ivene asked.

“I was temporarily blinded by my head striking the rock.” Dedede raised his head, tears streaming down his face, his body trembling. “I never forgave him for that.”

Tiff gasped. She didn’t know what to say. She felt heartbroken for her king. She had never known he had had such a bad life. Maybe that’s why he behaves the way he does, she thought sadly.

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Tiff said softly, her own eyes filling with tears. “I had no idea.” Impulsively, she wrapped her arms around him and embraced him. He buried his face in her shoulder, sobbing. Ivene let out her breath slowly. Starmonia’s face remained unmoved, but her eyes glimmered with a light of sorrow. Meta Knight kept his head down.

“Why is it so easy for one to hurt you,” Dedede cried, “but it’s harder to forgive the one who’s wronged you?”

Tiff was shocked by his question, and in truth, she had no answer. She had never been able to figure that out herself. “I don’t know,” she replied, “but Dedede. . .” She drew back and looked into his blue eyes. “. . .it’s not about the other person. It’s about how we respond to the ones who have wronged us.”

Dedede looked away from her, fighting to catch his breath.

“Hope still walks with us all, Dedede,” Tiff said, “even when we’re in the darkest of moods. Even when we’re in the most desperate place in our lives. Even when we feel as if we can’t go on, as if we have no purpose.”

Then little Ivene began to sing softly:

 

“Joy still comes in the morning
Hope still walks with the hurting
If you’re still alive and breathing
Praise the Lord!
Don’t stop dancing and dreaming
There’s still good news worth repeating
So lift your head and keep singing
Praise the Lord!”

 

Tiff turned and stared at the child for a moment. Then a smile lit up her face. “Ivene, you’ve hit on it!” she declared.

“Hit on what?” Ivene asked, confused.

“The perfect song for the occasion!”

“Occasion? What occasion?” Ivene demanded.

“The place where we are right here and now!” Tiff said. “Why don’t you, Starmonia, and I sing it together? We know the words.”

So they all began to sing together, in voices that blended harmoniously:

 

“What holds your heart?
What stirs your soul?
What matters come to mind?
The cares you keep,
The thoughts you think,
It’s not all wasted time.

Seek and you will find:

Joy still comes in the morning
Hope still walks with the hurting
If you’re still alive and breathing
Praise the Lord!
Don’t stop dancing and dreaming
There’s still good news worth repeating
So lift your head and keep singing
Praise the Lord!”

 

Dedede listened intently as the girls’ lusty voices sang together.

 

“The years roll by,
We wonder why
We lost our way from home.
Our Father finds
The child inside
We left for growing old.

Awake, awake, awake my soul!

Joy still comes in the morning
Hope still walks with the hurting
If you’re still alive and breathing
Praise the Lord!
Don’t stop dancing and dreaming
There’s still good news worth repeating
So lift your head and keep singing
Praise the Lord!”

 

Ivene and Tiff sang the outside lyrics while Starmonia sang the parentheses.

 

“Let everything, let everything
Let everything praise the Lord (Let everything)
In the working (Let everything), in the waiting (Let everything praise the Lord)
Let it praise the Lord (Let everything)
In the blessing (Let everything), in the breaking (Let everything praise the Lord)
Come on, praise the Lord (Let everything)
In the dying (Let everything), the rising (Let everything praise the Lord)
Let it praise the Lord (Let everything, let everything, let everything praise the Lord)
Let it praise the Lord (Let everything, let everything, let everything praise the Lord)
Praise the Lord!”

 

Then all three sang the chorus together.

 

“Joy still comes in the morning,
Hope still walks with the hurting,
If you’re still alive and breathing,
Praise the Lord!
Don’t stop dancing and dreaming, (Don’t stop dancing)
There’s still good news worth repeating, (Sun is shining)
So lift your head and keep singing, (Shining)
Praise the Lord!
Joy still comes in the morning, (Ohh)
Hope still walks with the hurting,
If you’re still alive and breathing, (Oh)
Praise the Lord!
Don’t stop dancing and dreaming, (Don’t stop dancing)
There’s still good news worth repeating, (News worth repeating)
So lift your head and keep singing,
Praise the Lord!”

 

“Praise the Lord we’re alive!” Ivene declared, then giggled with joy.

_____________________

Note: “Alive and Breathing was written by Matt Maher and Elle Limebear and was released on October 10, 2019. All credit goes to them.

Short stories

Leap of Faith

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“Take him around once more, Myra,” Ellie called to her friend, reining in her horse, Maccabee. Her eyes absently followed Myra and Jubilee around the paddock as they alternately trotted and cantered. Myra seemed a bit uptight, but Ellie couldn’t blame her. She had been that way since July—since the day she had had the terrible riding accident at Northwood Horse Show.

Myra had been warming up Jubilee and preparing him for their turn to jump. As they effortlessly flew over the jumps, a child had accidentally thrown a toy into the arena. It barreled right past Jubilee, startling him and causing him to land right on top of one of the oxers, wrenching his tendon in the process. Myra had been thrown and had badly injured her leg. She had completely recovered without any problems and so had Jubilee. But after she had gotten out of the hospital, Myra had begun to act skittery and frightened of riding.

Ellie shivered as she recalled how panicked she had been upon seeing Myra thrown from the saddle, striking her head against one of the jumps. Then she was brought back to the present as she noticed how stiff Myra was and how tightly she was clutching the reins. “Relax, Myra,” Ellie reminded her. “You’re going to work up your horse.”

Myra sat up straighter in the saddle and loosened up on the reins, slowing Jubilee to a walk. “There’s no way I can be in Ritternown Horse Show next week,” she complained to Ellie. “I’m just not talented enough for riding!”

“Sure, you are,” contradicted Ellie. She rode Maccabee over to Jubilee. “Look, Myra, your nervousness and lack of proper riding have nothing to do with you being a horrible rider. I get you’re scared because you had that accident last month, but at least you got back on. Now all you have to do is get over your fright.”

“How do you do that?” Myra asked.

Ellie thought a moment as she gazed toward the setting sun. She couldn’t very well formulate an answer for that. “The longer you do it, the more comfortable you feel,” she said at last. “And gradually, your fear goes away—but only if you kill it.”

Myra sighed. “And how do you kill it?”

“By doing the thing you’re most afraid of,” Ellie replied.

Myra frowned a little. “Are you telling me I have to jump in order to kill my fear of jumping?”

Ellie shrugged. “Basically.”

“No way!” Myra shook her head. “I didn’t let you talk me into entering the horse show to jump! I’m going to stick to equitation and the hunter division and that’s it! I will not take that chance again!”

“But who’s to say you’re not going to get hurt doing equitation or the division?” Ellie asked, driving her point home. “And if you do, what will you do then? Stay out of horse shows forever? Quit riding entirely?” She automatically bent forward to pat Maccabee’s neck. “Myra, what I’m saying is this: You can’t let your fear keep you from doing what you love. Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith into the unknown, no matter how frightening or unsure it is. And who knows? You might surprise yourself with the results.”

Myra frowned and ran her finger along the pommel of the saddle. “I guess. . .” she mumbled.

Ellie smiled encouragingly at her. “Come on, Myra,” she gently prodded. “At least try the jumping class.” Seeing her friend’s doubtful look, she added, “Please?”

Myra sighed. “I don’t know how I let you talk me into this. . .but fine. Yes! I’ll do it. I’ll jump in the horse show.”

Ellie grinned and clicked her tongue to Maccabee. “I just know you’ll be a success,” she called over her shoulder to Myra as she and Maccabee cantered toward a set of four gymnastic fences. “Come on! Let’s start practicing now.”

Myra reluctantly followed, but now there was the tiniest glimmer of excitement in her eyes.

______

The day of the horse show had finally arrived! Everyone at the grounds was extremely busy. Horses were being groomed, riders were scurrying around, reporters were taking notes—everything was a whirlwind of excitement and busyness. Ellie and Myra stood a little way off from the madness, watching everything that was going on.

“Jumping starts in a few minutes,” Ellie reported. “Are you nervous?”

“Me? Of course I’m nervous,” admitted Myra. “I’ll always be nervous before a show. I don’t know how I’m going to do.” She ran her fingers through the thickly braided sections of Jubilee’s black mane. “What if I goof up and everyone laughs at me?”

“Don’t worry about the crowd,” Ellie supplied helpfully. “Concentrate on your riding. Tell yourself, ‘I will do well. I can do well. I am talented enough to win this show.’ Say that over and over while you’re warming up and I guarantee you’ll be confident when it’s time to jump.”

“Why would you say that?” Myra asked. “I’ll bet you’re just trying to make me feel better.”

“No way! I’m serious,” Ellie said. “I’ve tried it myself and it’s worked. I just know it will help you too, Myra.”

Myra didn’t say anything, but her face registered doubt.

“All contestants to the arena,” the announcer droned over the speaker. “First up is Elinda Haye on her horse, Maccabee.”

Ellie quickly crossed her fingers for good luck and swung up into the saddle. “Wish me luck,” she said to Myra. She touched Maccabee’s side with the heel of her boot and the horse trotted off toward the arena.

Myra was amazed at Ellie’s confidence as she sailed over each jump, a calm, composed look on her face. Her signals were nearly invisible; it was as if she and Maccabee were one. How does she do it? Myra wondered. How can she be so calm? 

After a few more riders, it was Myra’s turn. As the arena gate swung open, Myra rode inside. The gate clanged behind her.

Myra began a quick but efficient warm-up for Maccabee, walking, trotting, and cantering at short intervals. While doing so, she reviewed the order of the fences in her mind and told herself what Ellie had told her to think: “I will do well. I can do well. I’m a talented rider. I can win this.”

When she was ready, she turned toward the first fence and urged Jubilee toward it. The bay never batted an eye. He calmly approached it and leaped over it as it if were merely a log in his path. She shortened his stride as they neared the second fence, and again he cleared it with almost no effort. They repeated the process for the rest of the course. When they finished, the crowd burst into applause. Beaming with pride, Myra rode out of the ring.

“Beautiful, Myra!” Ellie congratulated her friend. “That was a splendid performance!”

Myra smiled. And it was then she realized she no longer felt afraid. Ellie’s advice had worked. “Thanks, Ellie,” she said. “You’re a great friend.”

“Oh, think nothing of it!” Ellie said, waving her hand dismissively. “I’m always glad to help.”

When the results for the jumping class were announced, Myra had placed first, with Ellie being a close second. Myra grinned madly as she attached the blue ribbon to Jubilee’s bridle, giving him a pat on the nose as she did so. “You’re a champion,” she whispered into his silky ear.

The hunter division was next, then equation and dressage. Myra placed second in the division and first in equation and dressage. When the time came to announce who the winner of the Ritternown Horse Show Trophy would be, Myra and Ellie were known as the top riders of the show. Not once had they placed below third. Not once had anyone come close to their ability to ride so well.

The announcer droned on and on about the trophy and about who had donated it. Myra began to get impatient. Maccabee champed his bit and stomped his foot. Ellie crossed her fingers behind her back. Finally, the time came.

“The winner of this year’s trophy is Myrabelle Karner, of Rocky Ford, Colorado.”

The crowd erupted into cheers and Ellie gave Myra a victory sign. Myra set off for the grandstand, her eyes shining, her smile wide. She barely heard the rest of the announcer’s commentary as she collected her trophy. As she gazed at the silvery sheen of the prize she held in her hand, she knew she had not gained this trophy on her own. She owed it all to Ellie, her best friend—the one who had first encouraged her to conquer her fears.